Lessons Learned by a Learned Man
by Serenitychan13
Summary: John Reid is book smart, quite the learned man. A lawyer and all that. However, when his attempts to become physically affectionate with Rebecca end in every man's worst nightmare, he finds himself in need of further study. Madam Red Harrington seems to be the perfect candidate for a teacher!
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:**_**The Lone Ranger and any of its characters do not belong to me. I'm not making any money here. Seriously, don't sue me. I'm just a little fan fiction writer who's been inspired by shenanigans!**

Lessons Learned by a Learned Man

Prologue – He Knew One Thing Already

When he said he couldn't stay, he had been vague on purpose. True, they both knew he couldn't hang round and marry his brother's widow… With everything that had happened, it was no skin off his nose if people talked, but he couldn't do that to Becca and Danny. However, he wasn't about to go vanishing off into the wild blue either! Colby, Texas wasn't exactly his home anymore, but he couldn't go just yet. Becca could take care of herself and Danny okay – she made no bones about that – but still, it sat wrong with him to leave. He had promised his late brother that he would take care of her, and he would. For the moment, that meant staying out of her hair while she settled herself and Danny back down.

Hell, John thought, he had this whole "masked man" thing going – he could stay awhile! So, he'd hunted up a room through Madam Red and he and Tonto bunked down for about two weeks. Interesting experience, that, he thought through it all. Through the next few days, the townsfolk calmed down as construction resumed. Before long, the hoo-hah became something to talk about when you got real drunk. Week and a half and the unflappable Texans had gone right back to normal. Then, and only then, he'd gone to visit…

Of course it had started with an honest visit. "Hi, Becca" and "How are you, John?" and kidding around with Danny. Then there had been another visit, and another and another. Tonto took readily enough to the child, teaching him "Indian secrets" and whatnot. The visits brought some balance back to nature, as it were. It took his mind off being an outlaw and settled Becca about the situation. Danny was over the moon to have his Uncle John as a second dad– they could be a family still, but with a few unusual qualities. They settled into a routine of "drop in every few days and stay for dinner." When the visits started to last more than an afternoon, things began to grow… restless. John and Becca stayed up in the sitting room until long past time for Danny to go to bed night after night. Good night kisses became less and less chaste, and sometimes hands had a tendency to go where the Lord said they shouldn't.

Of course, he knew Becca wouldn't just fall right into bed with him – she descended quite gracefully. At first, it had almost been as it was when they were small: sleeping innocently together in the same bed-space. Becca settled in by his side and had gone to sleep immediately every time. Warm, safe, comforting, and all of it was absolute torture for at least John. The Ranger couldn't begin to speculate what went on in Becca's head on the subject. As Tonto said, "Man who venture in woman's head never get out. Have bad headache." Privately, John agreed with him and tried not to think of it. No words had been spoken on the subject, but it remained extremely clear that John was to go no further than holding her hand. In the morning, Becca rose first to awaken Danny and John left with Tonto.

Things went on like that for nearly a month. Put Danny to bed (Tonto insisted upon sleeping on the roof), sit a while, and quietly to bed. John held Becca's hand, just as he should, and neither moved in the night. Then, at some point during one night, they had awakened all tangled up in each other. Nothing had come amiss, so they blushed mutually and straightened themselves out. Becca went right back to sleep, leaving him to curse the moonlight for so perfectly highlighting her face. John climbed out the window that morning to be sure Danny didn't see him leave the room. Tonto snorted with laughter all the way back to Madam Red's. Naturally, his face turned to stone at John's arch glare. The night's events burned their way into the Ranger's brain and he had trouble thinking on anything else. Losing his focus never had sat well with him…

The duo had stayed clear of Becca's house for a fortnight after that. John spent the entire fourteen days and nights kicking himself in the butt for "breaking the treaty." Hanging about Madam Red's place wasn't exactly his style either. Well, it wasn't _bad, _he guessed. At least most everybody, patrons-wise, left him alone. He learned each lady by name, but never touched any of them – Becca was the only one for him. Nice enough gals, though, he did say to himself. Days were easy enough, playing cards and watching the tamer "daytime dances" on the stage. Some of the ladies really were quite talented. Nights, on the other hand, had a tendency to tie him up in knots. One, he wanted so much to be back in Becca's bed… doing more than holding her hand. Two, Tonto snored – sounded like a damn freight train.

Day fifteen dawned rather heavily and John had decided to pull himself together and go apologize to Becca. Tonto and Danny had conveniently taken off on some damn adventure or other, so he knocked on the door and attempted to explain himself. Becca, however, wouldn't hear of it, and "explanation" had turned into, well… Okay, it was a disaster of an explanation. There had been a lot of heat and a lot of friction and he apologized with a stammer on behalf of the sheets. Becca courteously kissed him good night and pretended to fall asleep. Once more, John had disappeared out the window before the morning dawned. All the way back to town, his butt received another sound kicking as Tonto stared stone-faced into the greening horizon. By the time they dragged themselves back to their rented beds, the Lone Ranger had himself a new mission. Tomorrow morning, he became a student again…


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: **_**Still not mine. Don't sue. All I own right now is a load of damnable bug bites.**

Lessons Learned by a Learned Man

Chapter 1 – A Schoolboy Again

The very next morning, after sleeping through the day and night previous and hoping the incident with Becca had only been a dream, John heaved himself out of bed. He stomped flat-footed past Tonto, who continued to stare at a corner chair and feed his bird. The Comanche gave no indication of noticing the clatter. John clomped along the halls, sending a few departing overnight patrons scurrying out of his way. Nobody wanted to mess around with the grouchy-looking masked man. The gals not occupied on-stage looked up from who- or whatever they were occupied with to see what the fuss was all about. Many pretty brows furrowed at seeing the otherwise good-humored Ranger storming about. Two stopped counting their tips, stuffed the coins in various places, and got up to witness the resulting brouhaha. Had to be _something _to get him going like that!

John reached the door of the madam's office-slash-boudoir and removed his hat before giving it two solid thumps with his fist. Murielle and Catalina stayed a good ten feet behind, poking their heads closer to hear what he wanted without possibly incurring his wrath. Madam Red's muffled voice called from inside. The Ranger had obviously awakened her. Oh, yes – this would be a thing to see! Clattering, thunks and thuds, some muffled cursing, and everyone heard the key click in the lock on the other side. The masked man shifted uncomfortably and looked off to the left as Madam Red Harrington emerged in naught but a floral bed-gown. Ten feet away, both ladies of the evening stifled giggles behind their hands.

"Y'all scat, both of ya!" barked the madam, sending Murielle and Catalina scurrying in the opposite direction to wait out of sight, but not out of earshot. The redhead lifted an eyebrow and looked the shuffling Ranger up and down. "Can I… help you?"

Shifting his hat in his hands, John tried very hard not to look at anything but the center of the madam's forehead. He took a very deep breath, let it out, took another one, and made a false start that sounded a lot like "Bwahurglfutz?" The scarlet woman's crimson eyebrow went back up and she looked round for her nearest bouncer. Wasn't like this guy to get drunk and bang on her door at Lord-knows in the blessed AM! However, she couldn't smell any hair o' the dog on him and he looked as though he'd shaved recently, so that mightn't be it. Another long breath and the masked man tried again.

"Well, ma'am, I reckon you might can…" he said, quite a bit more quietly than she had expected – rather like he had to force the words out between his teeth. "I… uh… got a kind of a problem."

The two blinked at each other for a short moment, and Madam Red took a deep breath of her own – this could go one of many ways.

"Got 'a kind of a problem,' huh?" she repeated, looking him up and down again – looked as if he'd slept in those clothes for longer than normal. "Well, come on in and tell me what kind of a problem."

Much to the disappointment of Murielle and Catalina, the door closed sharply and the lock clicked shut again, with both the madam and the Ranger on the opposite side of it. With the entertainment _du jour _out of the picture, the two girls took off. John, for his part, felt a bit like running or leaping out of a window himself. He seemed to be trying to burn a hole through the Persian rug on the floor in his attempts not to stare at Madam Red. She had not put on a robe or covered herself in any way, sitting in her favorite chair with her scrimshaw leg up. No matter how long he stayed in this place, John couldn't bring himself to stare so! Those big eyes of hers finally caught his after a long session of "Let's study the atmosphere."

"Well, if you can't tell me what kind of a problem it is, you can exit by the back door and let me go on back to sleep," she told him bluntly. Her cat hopped up in her lap and she scratched its little ears as John took another deep breath. "I take it the problem's not your breathing?"

John shook his head and set his hat on his knee. Okay, maybe he hadn't thought this through as well as he should have. Perhaps he _should _cut out and let Madam Red get back to her bed and do the same himself. He opened his mouth, shut it again, and repeated that action several times before staring down at his boots. Next moment, a _thunk _announced the madam getting up from her seat. He couldn't look at her, feeling just as embarrassed as the next virgin schoolboy. A hand found his shoulder and a bit more of her weight than usual bore down on him as she sat at his side.

"All right, Mister Ranger," her voice found his ears halfway between a tone of business and one of gentle sympathy. "Out with it. You knew enough to get that this is my kind of problem, so to speak. Don't tell me and I can't help you."

Surprisingly enough, the masked man did feel comforted by this. He let his tensed-up shoulders slump forward, leaning one elbow on his knee. Still couldn't look at the madam, so he kept studying the tip of his boot, but one step at a time, he reckoned.

"Well, you see… it's like this, ma'am," he started, but he didn't have to go any further. The madam held up a hand and he tilted his head and asked her, "What is it?"

Red had a funny sort of smile on her face – not a humorous one, but enigmatic.

"There's three kinds of 'like this, ma'am,' and I've heard 'em all," she told him in a tone that would have been accusing from anyone else. From her, it just offered more in the way of comfort – a knowledgeable voice. "Is it not happening with girls, not happening at all, or just happening too soon?"

Besides blushing until he thought his face would burst, John felt all kinds of relieved. Logically, he'd known that he couldn't be the only man in the world this ever happened to, but it felt good to _hear _that he wasn't the only man in the world this ever happened to! He let out a sigh fit for the Big Bad Wolf and slumped forward before straightening his back. The madam continued to smile. She took hold of his hand and gave it a friendly two-handed shake before setting it back on his knee and patting the back of it. This time, she took in a deep breath – also one of relief. It helped that now he smiled too.

"Well, luv, it's nothing I haven't seen before," she told him frankly, not taking her hand away from his. "And nothing I can't fix!"

At first, John's masked face held a look of relief that suggested he'd just had his salvation declared by the Lord in heaven Himself! Over the next few moments, as several levels of realization dawned upon him, that expression changed. After the relief, at first came blankness, as if his brain had turned off. Then, shock sent his eyes as wide as dinner plates before horror had his jaw crashing to the metaphorical floor. Madam Red witnessed this turn of events calmly. Once John finished having his little moment, she leaned on her hand in the manner that her cat liked to do when he watched dust bunnies float by. The masked man scrubbed his face with one hand and tried to pull himself together.

"Madam!" he finally yelped. "That is…! I mean…! Not that you…! Not that I…! Oh, you know what I mean. That's not a proper suggestion!"

Everything from the neck of John's shirt to the outline of his mask had turned redder than the Madam's hair… nay, even her name! He honestly considered for a moment hiding his face in his hat and sprinting out the back door, never to return. Madam Red's hand seemed to be the only thing keeping him where he sat. However, he took a steadying breath and managed to make himself meet her eyes. He saw no judgment or mocking or anything but a raised eyebrow and the repeated offer for genuine help.

"All right, ma'am," he said after a few very pregnant seconds. "How is it you can… help me, you know… with all this?"

The redhead smiled – not one of her "for the customer" smirks, but a real, genuine smile. She got up and crossed the room, lifting a curtain and gesturing for him to follow her. John shoved his way out of the chair and rather stumbled after her, feeling rather like his boots might not hold him up. The curtain dropped behind the both of them, turning the light of the oil lamp red by reflection. It actually put his mind at ease, the warmth and comfort that permeated every thread that made up her private boudoir. Red nudged a chair out of the way and stretched out on her bed, beckoning him to sit beside her. Blanching and gulping like a waterless fish, John had to physically force himself to stagger forward. After a second, he sat quite stiffly on the edge of the bed, making sure not to touch anything about her.

"Oh, dear, there's nothing to be ashamed of," her strong accent filtered into his ears past the pounding indignation and embarrassment. "Happens to the best of men – I can promise you, I know these things. Now talk to me, babe. How'd it happen?"

Could a man smother _himself _with a down pillow, John wondered? How would it look in the papers if the infamous Lone Ranger turned up stiff in a place like this? Instead of doing anything extreme, he just swallowed hard and looked at her nightstand. His shoulders slumped over again – he wanted to put his head in his hands, but couldn't. It was bad enough he'd lost his dignity once.

"It's more like how it _didn't _happen, ma'am," he groused, shifting even more uncomfortably. "It all happened so fast…"

Instead of looking shocked or disgusted, Madam Red smiled.

"Well, there's your problem, love!" she informed him brightly. "Somebody's gotta teach you to slow down… preferably before you try anything like that again!"

The way she spoke without censorship or filter did something to John. As a matter of fact, it did a couple of things – it both comforted and scared the hell out of him! However, he had never responded all that well to being afraid of things. He turned to the madam and gave her a hard look. A million thoughts crossed his mind all at once and he had to be very careful which one he let out.

"So how do I learn to slow down?" he asked. "Um… before I _try something like that _again?"

Well, so much for being careful. That being thought, Red didn't seem offended or even all that fussed. Matter of fact, she shifted up on her elbows, displaying her more-than-ample… chest, and appeared quite pleased with him for asking. And, as a matter of another fact, the way she propped up like that… Something about it did _things _to him. He felt heat in his lower body that confused him. It wasn't accompanied by the softer warmth that he felt when he was with Becca. That _heat _had still been there, but she made him feel something different. This felt a bit more _immediate. _He wanted to reach out _right now _and touch, but was too much of a gentleman to actually do so – bit surprised at himself for thinking of it, at that! His trousers had already started to get tight and he remembered this sensation from his very-recent youth.

Now, as a man, he could turn and face Madam Red and lean down very close to her, closer than he would have ever dreamed of daring when he first met her. This was what she had meant by teaching him, right? He took hold of her shoulder and shifted his knee over so that he straddled her hips, careful of her scrimshaw leg. Her face remained in a careful sort of smile – she seemed to be assessing his actions, almost like a schoolteacher he'd had as a boy. The thought strangely aroused him further… Not sure how to proceed with all this, he leaned down to place a kiss on her neck – he'd seen a picture of something like that in the dance hall. Feeling her hot skin made him a little crazy and his hand found her breast. It didn't take another half a second for her palm to very sharply find his cheek!

"Ow!" he squawked, holding his face. "What was that for?"

She blessed him with a smile that made him almost want her to slap him again.

"Teaching," she fired back amiably, not looking all that offended about being groped. "See what I mean about slowing down?"

He groaned by way of answering, "… Kinda."

"Well, you just went from zero to forty-five faster than a train!" the madam told him, gesturing at his position above her. "Not that I'm not likin' what I'm seein', but you've gotta take it maybe ten miles at a time! Now, try it like this…"

Then Red took hold of his hand and John could tell she enjoyed how his eyes widened at what she did with it. First, she shaped that hand in hers and guided him to run the backs of his fingers down her cheek. John blushed until his own cheeks nearly bruised – he had done that with Becca as they had pushed the limits of the sitting room couch. Next, his hand found itself gliding down the side of the madam's neck. Those trousers of his – mighty tight to start with and they were getting tighter by the second. Seconds almost turned into minutes as she reshaped the position of his hand and traced his fingers across her collar bone. After a pause that made him want to tear that floral gown nine ways to Sunday, she smiled. Carefully, she settled his hand over her left breast and showed him how to best cup his hand around it. He panted like a virgin bride, barely able to contain himself, as she just grinned languidly.

"Getting the picture now, Mister Ranger?" she asked in a voice barely more than a satisfied purr. A nod accompanied by a choking noise answered her. This, she laughed softly at. "Yeah, not so much… Looks like you need continuing lessons."

John could only swallow hard and nod at her again, trying his best to get his act together. It was all for the greater good, right? Fit the whole "Lone Ranger, good guy" shtick, right? Right, he told himself. A few labored breaths and a head-shake did little to straighten him out, but it was a start. Madam Red smiled and reached out for his other hand. This, he willingly gave her, letting her guide him further and enjoying the proverbial ride. He let out a sigh of his own as his palms, rough from leather and work, glided over her shoulders. It felt different from the sort of… mutual pawing that had been going on with Becca. Somehow, it started to dawn on him what "slowing down" could mean. From the look on her face, it seemed Madam Red enjoyed his new kind of touch too!

"Anything you particularly want to try?" she asked him in that positively frank manner she had. "I'm here to teach, after all!"

After a few stilted breaths, John found it in him to speak in words that did not make him sound like a perverted child – the first few attempts his brain made shocked him!

"Well, ma'am…" he started out carefully, trying to look carefully at what he was doing and where his hands were without _staring._ "I wouldn't mind… getting a little closer."

Red smiled blithely and popped the top two buttons of her bed-gown open, letting the fabric sit where it fell. Nothing that shouldn't have been showed – well, not just yet. The way she blinked her eyes indicated to John that if he wanted to see, he could move it himself. Blinking back at her inquisitively, cautiously, the masked man took careful hold of the floral fabric and tugged it aside like turning a page in a book. Interestingly enough, given the spacing of the buttons, this did not entirely bare her breasts. John took in a quick breath as he discovered he _liked _not being able to see everything all at once. Shifting downward a bit, he allowed himself to lean closer to the newly-exposed flesh.

"Well, Mister Ranger," breathed Red, wriggling beneath him enticingly. "You're certainly closer."

John looked up and would have tipped his hat if he still had it on.

"Ma'am, if we're going to be this… close…" he began with a different sort of smile on his face, one less John Reid and more Lone Ranger. "You can call me John."

This seemed to please the madam and she settled back in the mass of pillows at the head of her bed, more than willing to let him take the proverbial reins. Gauge his actions, assess them, and then teach from there – she always had a plan in mind. Then again, her mind started to turn itself off just a bit as his lips touched her skin. Oh yes, she liked that she didn't have to tell him to do that. It made all the sense in the world that John would have his heart in the right place… Good, learned man he was, but he just didn't have any horse sense without that crazy horse looking after him!

"Oh, that's right… John," she praised him as he finally took the initiative to unbutton another three buttons and expose her chest to the slightly-chill air of the room. "Precisely how that's done… Now hold on a second!"

His mouth had found a little pink tip, descending upon it hard and fast. She popped the back of his head briskly with one hand. This time, he lifted his head and looked sheepish, fully aware of what he had done wrong, but having caught himself too late. The madam gave him a "that's what I thought" look and began to instruct him. With Red's voice urging him on, he leaned down to be sure he performed more admirably this time. On this next attempt, his lips parted to allow his tongue to be first to touch her. A little too… wet… at first, she told him, causing him to swallow hard before trying again. Once more – too cautious, so this time he let his lips deliver a quick kiss before circling the hard peak with the tip of his tongue. This, Red indicated, proved the most successful endeavor. John watched the gooseflesh arise on her skin as he did that one more time, now quite sure he had now learned something!

At the redhead's encouragement, he had to take perfect care in kissing from one breast to the other – still too wet, she informed him. Funny, he had almost expected her to slap him again, and he wasn't so sure he would complain! Presented with an untouched breast, brought to a rose-colored peak like its twin from the air in the room, he bit his lip. Panting, John attempted to simultaneously lean forward and get a grip on his faculties. In a moment of spontaneous instinct, he nipped at her skin with his teeth. Red's hand ascended again, but instead of slapping him, took a hard hold on his hair in the back.

"Now that's mighty nice," she pulled him forcefully close and whispered thickly in his ear. "But I do reckon that's next lesson."

Blue eyes widened behind the black mask as the hand let go of his hair. He'd never had _that _happen before!

"Next lesson, ma'am?" he queried, kicking himself at the look on her face – a combination of amusement and disappointment. "… I shouldn't've said that."

The madam laughed softly, the smile returning to her lips.

"Yeah, you've got a long way to go, dear," Red told him, touching his cheek with one hand – the same one she had slapped earlier. "I reckon you can come see me tomorrow and we'll play school again."

Somehow, his own disappointment and frustration with himself at the session ending so suddenly left his mind. Had she really just said they would "play school?" Yeah, she had. John got up from the bed on wobbly legs. Madam Red pulled on a beautiful silk kimono and escorted him from her bedroom. Her bouncer/manservant did not look askance at the duo's disheveled appearance from the back, simply tipping his hat to his employer. All the way back to his rented room, John's mind got the better of him. He knew it wasn't right, but for some reason, he had fantasies of himself as a schoolmaster and Becca… The thought couldn't be finished as he walked straight into the doorframe. Tonto looked up at his associate's entrance. For a moment, the two stared.

"How?" asked Tonto.

"Don't ask."


End file.
